


Tight Spaces

by Cassie_grace06



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassie_grace06/pseuds/Cassie_grace06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane and Van Pelt find themselves in a rather pleasureful tight space. For The Mentalist Kink Meme 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tight Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> For The Mentalist Kink Meme 2012 prompt: grinding, fully clothed or with some clothes but not naked.

Grace Van Pelt always hated being the tall, gangly girl growing up. Although others constantly complimented her on her fair, beautiful complexion, her pin-straight red hair, and how her make up perfectly complimented her looks, most people only saw her for one thing: her height. Even as a kid, whenever something was a bit too high for an adult, she'd always be asked to get it. Whenever there was a bug or a spider too high for a freaked out roommate to smush, she was always yelled for, even at 3:30 in the morning. Her height was a blessing and a curse, in so many ways.

To her dismay, she found this trend continuing into her career as a cop. If her boss Teresa Lisbon needed to know what was in that tiny crawl space, Grace was usually tall enough and slim enough to fit. She was constantly being asked to subject her poor body to tiny, claustrophobic, dusty, dank, dirty passageways, and, quite frankly, it was starting to piss her off.

So, when Lisbon asked her if she wouldn't mind shimmying down that crawl space in their newest suspect's house, she almost told her no. But then she looked at Rigsby, who had shoulders twice as wide as hers, and then looked at Cho, who couldn't fit comfortably in most small compact cars, and then at Jane, who was already looking everywhere but at her, stroking his suit like a precious baby. Finally, Grace's gaze landed on the boss herself, but she knew Lisbon needed to maintain some kind of dignity.

Grace could see, yet again, that there wasn't much choice.

"Fine, but it looks kind of tight. Can someone stay to make sure I don't get stuck?"

"Sure, Jane can. We need to go into the basement, and he always whines in places like that. First it's too dark, then too musty, then his nonexistent allergies act up-"

"My allergies are very real, thank you," Jane cut in, eying Lisbon in annoyance. "I have very delicate sinuses."

"Right. And I have very delicate ears that can't take another half hour of Jane Whine. You can stay here. And don't leave her alone, understand?"

"Yes, Mistress Lisbon!"

Lisbon groaned and rolled her eyes, motioning for the other two men to follow her downstairs. Jane smirked, before turning to Van Pelt.

"Well? You better get digging."

"Right," she sighed, getting down on her hands and knees and peering into the dark crawlspace. Taking her flashlight out, she started to crawl in.

The fit wasn't quite as tight as it looked, she had some room to move, but it was dusty as all hell and she swore she saw something crawling just ahead of her beam of light. Just her imagination, she hoped, but she couldn't help the way her skin crawled.

It wasn't long, thankfully, before Grace came upon what appeared to be a canvas bag shoved into the space. "I found something!"

Jane had been wandering in a slow circle, counting floorboard cracks, when he heard the call. He hurried over to the space and looked in, able to see Grace's faint outline.

"Can you tug it out?"

"No, it's-" Grace voice was strained as she tried to tug on the bag from the awkward position. "-It's stuck tight."

"Need some help?"

"Yeah, just let me get out of here first."

"Meh, two people tugging will be better than one," Jane reasoned, tugging off his jacket, rolling up his shirtsleeves, and kneeling down again.

"Uh, Jane, I don't think-"

"Trust me!"

His voice sounded so bright and child-like that Grace could only sigh. She knew this wasn't a good idea, but Jane was very hard to deter when he got like this.

Jane pushed himself into the space, able to use his arms to pull him along. When he came across Grace's body, he stopped a moment at her sneakers, trying to figure out how this was going to work.

"Can't you lay flatter or something?"

"Well, I could, except laying on my back would rather negate me being able to pull."

"No, it wouldn't. You can pull with your arms above your head like that."

"I just don't think that would work as well-"

"Trust me!"

Grace groaned, starting to hate that phrase as much as Lisbon already did. With a huff, she slowly and awkwardly turned herself onto her back, putting her arms above her head to grip the bag and give it a tug. It was much harder work, but she could see how she might be able to do it with Jane's help.

Jane, however, was suddenly presented with the tantalizing image of a beautiful woman laying before him, arms over her head in a perfect image of surrender, her lilac sweater stretched over her firm breasts. For a man who had been celibate as long as he had, the sight was more than tempting.

It was torture.

"Um. Maybe, yeah, maybe you're right, maybe this isn't such a good idea." Jane tried to backtrack while frantically calling up every biofeedback trick he knew to stop his blood from pooling in his groin.

"Jane, come on, I'm filthy and uncomfortable, but you wanted to do this, so can we please get it done?"

"Well, okay, but..." He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, but saw no choice but to slowly try to drag his body over hers.

Movement and friction, however, were not his friend, and the very action of pulling his body over hers fought his increasingly frantic tries to control his arousal. It wasn't until his face hovered above Grace's that they realized how tight the space really was. Jane could feel Grace's breasts against his chest, and Grace...well...

"Um...Jane?"

"I know."

"Yes. Well. Um. I'm...flattered...but now's really not the time..."

Instinctually, Grace shifted just a little, but the action brought her body more into contact with Jane's and the man couldn't help but let out a moan. Grace froze, but then the rather sadistic part of her personality took over.

She shifted again.

And then again.

Jane couldn't help but close his eyes at that delicious feeling. God, it was amazing. It was dirty. It was completely teenage-esque and totally unbecoming adults of their age.

He loved it.

"Goddamn it, Grace...you're a little minx, aren't you?"

"Rigsby loved me for a reason, I suppose."

Jane moaned low again as her knee came up between his legs and pressed against his arousal, hard and leaking inside his briefs. His body had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape, though at that moment he wasn't sure he wanted to escape. His eyes closed and his head tilted back, and Grace could see the pleasure written on his face, even in the low light the flashlight created. Her own face was bathed in shadows, but her eyes glittered. 

When Jane's hips moved, just a fraction, just a little, as if they wanted to ignore that they were, in fact, grinding against Grace's leg, those same eyes downright smirked. Despite Jane wanting to deny that he was frotting against his teammate, that's what he was doing, and over a few minutes the grinding got more obvious, harder. Grunts fell from Patrick's mouth and Grace couldn't help the arousal rising in her body. Her nipples were being rubbed through her clothes by Jane's movement, and her body was responding to the feeling of having a man in such pleasure over her.

Jane was finally able to regain a bit of control as he felt the change in Van Pelt's body. He carefully transferred his weight to one arm and reached down, pushing Grace's leg aside. He lowered himself to lay more fully on her, their bodies coming into more contact, Grace moaning happily and pressing up. It was her turn to start to squirm, and the movement felt almost as good to Jane as her leg had. Jane groaned and pressed against her harder, his breath starting to come out in small pants, the two of them breathing the same air in the small space.

It wasn't much longer before Jane felt himself orgasm hard inside his clothes, his sticky cum coating his briefs and wetting the front of his trousers. With one last final gasp--and a few well-placed rubs from Jane's fingers--Grace felt her own pleasureful completion wash over her.

Jane swallowed hard and dropped his head, his forehead touching Van Pelt's. He didn't kiss her, he couldn't, but the touch was intimate enough to satisfy Grace in that moment. She smiled soft, releasing the bag she had been gripping to run a hand through Jane's soft blond curls.

She had always wanted to do that.

"Can we get this done?" She asked soft. She didn't want to break the spell of the moment, but she knew that Lisbon would be coming back very soon.

"I thought we just did," Jane responded with a shaky chuckle, making Grace grin.

"You know what I mean."

"I do, and it would be awfully awkward for the team to find us this way. It's going to be awkward enough holding my jacket over my crotch until we get back to the office."

"Then let's get this bag free before anyone from the team finds us."

Jane nodded, gathered the last of his wits, and tugged. The two of them squirmed along with the bag, and Jane was infinitely grateful for that lovely little period of recovery time programed into the biology of every male. Had their previous position not aroused him, this oddly sexual dance certainly would have.

Finally, the two wiggled their way out of the small space, the air in the house infinitely cooler than what they had just been breathing. They both took a few minutes to just take in the cleaner air before looking carefully at each other.

"Man, you two are a mess."

They both jumped at Rigsby's unexpected voice, Jane scrambling for his jacket and Grace bounding to her feet, smoothing out her hair.

"Yeah, it was dirty in there, but we got this bag out."

"Great, boss should be along in a minute, I'll go see what's keeping her and Cho."

"Thanks, Wayne," Grace nodded, wiping her sweaty face with her sleeve. The movement smudged the dust along her cheek, and Jane watched as Wayne's fingers twitched. He clearly wanted to help her with that, but it wasn't his place anymore, so he just walked away.

Jane, however, took a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and gently cleaned Grace's face. He was surprised that Grace was able to look him in the eye as he did it, the gesture, like the forehead touch, strangely intimate.

"We'll let it settle, okay?" Grace spoke soft. "Not now, not here, not even today. Just let it settle. When we're comfortable, we'll talk."

Jane nodded gratefully, his fingers unconsciously spinning that thin gold band on his left ring finger. But something inside him was lighter, brighter.

He'd let it settle.

But not for long.


End file.
